Sunday afternoon
As I drove towards Dushinkove, I realised that the festival that I was told was taking place next weekend was in fact happening today. The police had closed off the main street and we had to do a diversion round the mosque but one happy policeman chattering on his mobile phone was directing me into a car park thinking that I had come to join in the festivities. He was adamant that he wanted me to park until I pulled down the window and said ....Kushta Dushinkovo...and that did the trick.
I was happily working away moving one pile of soil to another part of the garden when the daughter of my opposite neighbour insisted that I join her to view the festivities. Now I am clad in gardening clothes and not too decent shoes but she insisted, I went and the only thing missing was my camera.
Lots of market stalls, sheep roasting, lots of people on holiday from Turkey and two wrestlers beating seven shades of whatever it is they beat out of each other. I was informed that there was a lot of money riding on the event so tension was high. There were security guards around the tumble mats, a referee of sorts constantly blowing a whistle and the local mayor was in attendance adding a touch of authority to the event. Eventually one floored the other, the wrestlers were swamped, money changed hands so we got in the car and went back to the house. Fun over....for the time but a lot of those people walked back to where they were staying right passed my house and all wanted to see the progress.
Eventually I worked inside, there were just too many people. Over to the restaurant for a couple of beers, cheesy chips and pork cooked with mushrooms and garlic and then to bed said Zeberdee....Lecka nosht... |